


beautiful flowers

by loveless_klark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, idk what else to tag, that's legit all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveless_klark/pseuds/loveless_klark
Summary: Waking up was something Murphy had come to dread.He’d gotten used to painful wake up calls by now. A kick to his bruised torso, being dragged out of his dirty cell. Sleep had been fleeting. A momentary break from the torture, before it all started up again.Which is why he was more than a little confused to wake up and feel… comfortable. Safe.Safety was something he hadn’t felt in years.~or where Murphy comes back to the dropship after being banished and Clarke takes care of him
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/John Murphy
Kudos: 33





	beautiful flowers

**Author's Note:**

> i just finished writing this. it's 100% unedited we die like men
> 
> so i've never written for this ship before but i found a new love for it. idk if that means ill write for it again but that doesn't mean i _won't_
> 
> anyway
> 
> enjoy :)

Waking up was something Murphy had come to dread.

He’d gotten used to painful wake up calls by now. A kick to his bruised torso, being dragged out of his dirty cell. Sleep had been fleeting. A momentary break from the torture, before it all started up again.

Which is why he was more than a little confused to wake up and feel… comfortable. Safe.

Safety was something he hadn’t felt in years.

Something damp ran over his cheek, wiping away the layers of blood and dirt. Fingers brushed his hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get caught up in the cloth. He could hear the soft rumble of people bustling around in the distance, and the soft breaths of whoever seemed to be taking care of him.

His face was slightly swollen from all the abuse it had taken, and his first attempt to open his eyes sent a jarring pain through him. “Hey, hey,” he heard, softly shushing him. “Take it slow. Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Clarke?” Following her words, he slowly eased his eyes open, the pain still present but a bit more tolerable. “That you?” 

“Mhm.” The world came into focus around him, and the first thing he noticed was sun-bright hair hanging down over his face. Clarke’s eyes were focused on her hand as she continued to wipe softly at his face. It took him a moment, but he realized that his head was laying in her lap.

“Why-” he cleared his throat, sore from the constant screaming he’d been doing. “Why am I here? Why are you here?”

“You came into camp last night, remember?” She moved the cloth over an open cut on his chin, making him wince. “Though you seemed barely conscious. I’m not surprised you can’t remember.”

He kind of did. It was all blurry, but he could remember seeing the glow of a fire, hearing voices in his ears, soft hands leading him away and laying him down.

 _Clarke_.

“You banished me,” he croaked. “Why am I still here?”

Her eyes finally flickered to meet his. “Do you really think we’d just leave you to die? When you come back like… like _this_?” She took the cloth away from his face, replacing it with her hand, stroking his cheek. “God, Murphy, what did they do to you?”

He snorted. “Tortured me. Thought that would be obvious.”

Her face was full of pain and regret. “I never would’ve let them banish you if I knew this was going to happen. I’m so sorry.”

“For letting them banish me? Or for accusing me of murder?”

She cringed, shaking her head. “For all of it. You aren’t my favorite person, but you don’t deserve this. I shouldn’t have been so quick to accuse you. This is my fault, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything.”

“I know.” She moved her hand off his face, and he found himself missing the warmth of it. “I hope that taking care of you now can be a step in the right direction.”

He shrugged as best he could while laying in her lap. “I don’t know, I’m pretty good at holding grudges.”

She huffed, a small smile creeping onto her face. “I hope that’s a joke, John Murphy.”

“What if it’s not?”

She lightly smacked his shoulder, and he found himself grinning. “Okay, okay, it is. Kind of.”

“Shut up!” She giggled, eyes glistening. She soured a bit, then, looking at him with an emotion he couldn’t place. “Thank you for not hating me.”

He almost made another joke about that, but figured she might not appreciate it. “You’re taking care of me now. That’s more than most people have ever done.”

He could feel the weight of her concern pressing down on him. “You mean you’ve never…”

Murphy snorted. “Not all of us can have two loving parents.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“You’ve apologized enough,” he interrupted. “You’re trying to make amends. That’s good enough for me.”

“I thought you said you were good at holding grudges.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Her smile was blinding. And addictive. He couldn’t help smiling back.

The moment was broken when Murphy broke into painful coughs. He tried to roll over so he wasn’t coughing right in Clarke’s face, and she helped him, rolling him onto his side. He could taste metal in his mouth and was shocked when blood bubbled out of his mouth. Clarke gasped, the hand on his shoulder gripping him tighter. 

As soon as his fit died down, Clarke shifted out from under him, lowering his head onto the floor gently. He couldn’t see where she went, but she was back moments later, helping him sit up and holding a cup of water to his lips. “Drink.”

The water was cold, and it helped get the taste of his own blood out of his mouth. Not letting up until she drank the entire cup, she shifted him back down so they were in the same position as before, his head laying on her legs. She pressed a hand to his forehead. “You’re warm,” she muttered. “Too warm.”

“You got a diagnosis, doc?” His voice was raspy, and his throat ached with each word.

“I-” Clarke shook her head, eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t know. We have no idea what kinds of sicknesses there are down here. It could be anything.”

He hummed. “Better get me healed quick then.”

“God, we don’t even know if this could be contagious- or what it could do to you-” Clarke pursed her lips. “Just- just rest. That’s all you can do for now. Rest and stay hydrated. Hopefully it’ll run itself off.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“God, Murphy, just-”

“Okay! Okay!” He cut her off, getting that she wasn’t much in the mood for his jokes anymore. “You’re the doctor here.”

She sighed. “Just sleep. I’ll wake you up in a few hours to make sure you’re staying hydrated, see if you can keep any food down.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You planning on staying here then?”

“I haven’t left this ship since they brought you in.”

Something inside him softened at that. Not knowing what to say, he tried to relax, the aching pains making that a bit of a struggle. But Clarke, ever observant, seemed to notice, and moved her hands to press into his temples, massaging them lightly. It eased a weight he hadn’t even known was there. His eyes flickered closed, an involuntary sigh escaping his lips.

The silence was broken as Clarke started to hum, a tune unfamiliar to him, quiet and slow. He felt surrounded by her, and it was… it was nice. Despite the pain wracking his body, this could be the most comfortable he’d felt in a long time.

Just before he tipped of the edge, he felt her shift, and her lips pressed onto his forehead, just barely brushing his skin. She said nothing, only hovered there, curled over him, and that was the last thing he felt before the darkness took over.

Maybe he’d been wrong about her.

_“Beautiful flowers need tender, loving care to bloom. So do people.”_

_― Jim Genovese_

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out on tumblr at [lovelessdyke](https://lovelessdyke.tumblr.com)!! prompts are always open ♥


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